


If the Fates Allow

by BladeoftheNebula



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Angst, Christmas, Feel-good, M/M, MHEA Holiday 2019, Past Relationship(s), Romance, all the best clichés
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21934678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BladeoftheNebula/pseuds/BladeoftheNebula
Summary: “I saw him, Rhodey,” Tony blurted out miserably. “I saw him.”“Oh wow, how was it?”“Awful,” Tony moaned. “He has a beard now. A lush lumberjack beard, and muscles for days.”Rhodey made a sympathetic noise. “Yeah man, I saw it last time I was home. It is pretty luscious.”Tony Stark left Iron Valley, determined never to return - but it seemed fate had other ideas.When his father passes away and leaves him the family toy factory, Tony must go home and face up to his responsibilities and the man who broke his heart.For prompt #13 of the MHEA Holiday Movie Challenge 2019.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 68
Kudos: 592
Collections: MHEA Holiday Movie Challenge 2019





	If the Fates Allow

**Author's Note:**

> Big shout out to the folks over at MHEA for organising such a cool event :)
> 
> This was my first time attempting a set prompt/fic challenge and it was a really fun exercise.
> 
> Minor warning: passing mention of terminal illness.
> 
> Thanks so much to my beta SanaTomb, who made sure this baby was readable <3 Any remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> EDIT 10/12/2020: [This fic now has art!!!](https://hundredthousands-art.tumblr.com/post/636958523533721600/some-scenes-from-if-the-fates-allow-by?is_highlighted_post=1) I have been lucky enough to get art from HT who has done an absolutely amazing job and made some gorgeous art of two of the scenes and I am in awe of the SHEER TALENT!!! ❤️❤️❤️THANK YOU 😭

* * *

Achievements earned as part of the Holiday Movie Challenge 2019. Click [here](https://heamarvel.tumblr.com/holiday) for more info!

* * *

Tony took a deep, fortifying breath before he stepped out of his rental car.

The factory loomed big and foreboding in front of him, the once rich green paint peeling and the ‘A’ of the Stark Toys sign the only thing that wasn’t faded.

Dear old dad had really let this place go.

He grabbed his bag out of the car and locked it, walking up towards the entrance to the office. He never thought he’d ever set foot in this place again, but his father had ruined that too. Leaving him the factory in his will instead of to his business partner Obie and forcing Tony back here to deal with it was a low blow.

He steeled himself and pushed the door open, stepping into the office. It was older looking than he remembered, outdated and yellowing. He stopped to wipe the snow off his boots carefully on the mat.

“Tony Stark, as I live and breathe!” a voice said and he looked up to see an older woman behind the desk in the corner, a wide smile on her face.

He couldn’t help the answering smile. “Mrs. Arbogast! I didn’t know you still worked here.”

She’d been the office manager since Tony was a kid, one of the few people who stood up to his father. She was also one of the few things about this place that didn’t fill Tony with stress. 

She got up from her desk and came around, pulling him into a tight hug. He returned it, breathing in her familiar perfume. “I’m sorry about your father.”

He managed not to tense at her words – she wasn’t the first to say it, and he’d hear it more and more the longer he was in this town. “Thanks.”

She held him tight. “I know you two didn’t see eye to eye; doesn’t mean you can’t still be grieving.”

She knew him too well. She was always the one to look after him when his father had to bring him to work; the one to sit him down when he and his father had an argument, giving him hot cocoa and cookies to cheer him up.

When she released him, she took in his face. “Living in that big city must have done you some good. What job you doing now?”

“I’m a computer programmer,” he told her, wanting to impress. “I work mostly in security for large companies, to make sure they don’t get hacked.”

“Well that’s nice. You’re doing real well for yourself,” she said, sounding proud, but her tone was slightly off.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing," Mrs. Arbogast said, but he just stared at her and her shoulders slumped. “Well, you were always such a whizz with the toy designs, and you always seemed to love it. I know you didn’t want to work here, but I’d hoped you’d found something that let everyone see how creative you are.”

She sounded so fond and proud, and Tony felt oddly like he’d let her down doing what he did.

“It's a good job. I like it,” he told her, trying not to sound defensive but he knew he failed.

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” she said reassuringly. “Don’t you mind me. It’s sounds like you’re doing really well for yourself.”

She stepped back, smoothing out her ruffled cardigan. “You here to see Mr. Stane then?”

“Yeah, is he upstairs?”

“Head on up, he’s in his office.”

“Thanks.” He walked up the stairs, the feeling of dread settling in his stomach. 

* * *

“Tony!” Obadiah greeted, standing up from behind the desk ( _his father’s desk,_ Tony thought, feeling a little ill) and sweeping him into a hug. “It’s been a long time, my boy!”

“Hi, Obie,” Tony replied, embracing him just as tightly. For all his feelings about this place, Uncle Obie had always looked after him. He’d always been supportive, always there with a kind ear and a joke to cheer Tony up. Hell, he’d been the one to teach Tony to shave, when his dad had been too busy in his workshop to bother. 

“I’m sorry for your loss, kid,” Obie rumbled in his ear.

“Thanks.”

“You know, he never got over losing your mother,” Obie sighed. “I knew he was drinking; I just didn’t realise how bad it was.”

Tony nodded, like he was expected to. But he couldn’t help the bitter feeling rising in his chest. His father’s drinking had been out of control for years. It was more surprising this accident hadn't happened sooner. 

“We missed you at the funeral.”

“I– " Tony’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t face it. Not with the way he and I left things when I went away.”

“I understand.” Obie moved away, going back to sit behind the desk. Tony took a seat on one of the chairs in front.

“Let’s forget all that now. What matters is the future of this factory. I hear you work for a security company now?”

Tony nodded. “Well, cyber security. I stop companies from being hacked, having financial data stolen, that sort of thing.”

“Pretty important stuff,” Obie said, pouring two whiskeys from the decanter behind the desk. He passed one over to Tony, who took it reluctantly. He’d never liked it, not after he’d smelt it on his father’s clothes and breath for so many years. But when Obie toasted, he took a small sip for the sake of politeness. “I’m sure you want to get back to it as soon as possible.”

"Yeah, the less time I’m here, the better, really.”

“Understandable. Well, I’m not going to lie to you Tony. The business is in trouble. Has been in trouble for a long time. Your father mismanaged a lot of funds, and sales have been dropping. We can’t justify the cost of keeping it open anymore.”

Tony’s brows shot up in surprise. “It has to close?”

“Afraid so.”

There was a pang in his chest. He’d given up on this life five years ago, never expected he’d come back to it, but still. Still. The idea that it was gone forever, the door closed to him for good, still made him feel a sense of loss. “I wasn’t expecting this, if I’m honest.”

“I know, it’s been a shock to myself and the board.”

Tony looked down at the glass in his hands. “What about the workers?”

“If the factory goes under, they’ll be out on the street. We’ll have to file for bankruptcy.”

That was bad. Very bad.

Half of Iron Valley relied on Stark Toys. Had been that way since before Tony was born. Everyone knew the Starks. If the factory went under, the whole town would suffer.

He may hate being here, but he wasn’t cruel. “What can we do?”

“Sell it,” Obie said bluntly. “I’ve got a buyer lined up. We sell, give the workers a nice redundancy pay out. Then when the owners establish the new business in a year or so, they’ll all have a chance to reapply for jobs.”

Tony sucked a breath through his teeth. It wasn’t ideal. And some people would still struggle. However, Obie was right. That was probably the safest option. At least it wouldn’t leave everyone high and dry. And the payout would soften the blow, especially so close to Christmas.

“You’re right.”

The other man leaned forward and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m glad you agree. I’ve got a lawyer coming by, should be here any minute. She’ll go over everything you need to sign and anything you need to do before you sign.”

Tony nodded numbly. This was just so much more than he was expecting when Obie asked him to come back to tie up loose ends.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Tony trying to absorb everything. The quiet was broken by a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

“Mr. Stane? Oh, and you must be Mr. Stark.” The woman who entered was tall, with ginger hair, and her face was sympathetic. She held out a hand to shake. “My condolences.”

“Thank you. Ms...?”

“Oh, Potts. Virginia Potts. I go by Pepper, though.”

Tony smiled. “Pepper Potts, huh?”

She smiled ruefully. “I didn’t come up with it, but it stuck.”

“Ms. Potts,” Obie interrupted, gesturing for her to take a seat. “Tony here has agreed that we need to sell. I’d like you to prepare the documents and make sure it goes smoothly.”

A flash of shock flickered over her face before smoothing out. “Oh, really?”

Tony looked at her. “You seem surprised .”

She flushed a little. “Sorry, I just, well, the gossip around town was that you’d be taking over ownership. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Tony frowned. “Who would– "

“Never mind all that," Obie said jovially. “The factory will be sold. What do we need to do?”

“I can prepare most of the documents; it should be fairly straightforward provided you’ve already got a buyer– " she looked to Obie who nodded. “What I will need is for you to get an inspector in to get everything signed off,” Pepper said. “We need to make sure you’re not knowingly selling something with dangerous faults, leaks, anything like that. You’ll need to talk to the town council and make sure everything’s up to code.”

Tony nodded. “That’s all fine. I’ll get that sorted today. I don’t want to have to be here longer than I need to.”

“Well then, I think that’s everything for now. I’ll be in touch if there’s anything else I need from you. Let me know when you’re set to finalise the deal and I can bring the paperwork.” She gave Tony her card, then shook his Obie’s hands before heading out the door.

Tony stood, gathering his coat and bag from the chair. “I’d better go and get the ball rolling, see if I can book in the inspection.”

Obie nodded. “Stay in touch. I want this taken care of as soon as possible.”

“You and me both.”

* * *

“I’m sorry, unfortunately because of the nature of the dwelling, I can’t sign off on this. You’ll need the mayor’s signature.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “’ _The nature of the dwelling_ ’? It’s a factory, why would the mayor need to be involved?”

Tony had walked into the Iron Valley town council building expecting to fill in a form and be done with it.

This was not that.

The woman’s eyes danced behind her thick black glasses. “So sorry,” she repeated, and her face was the furthest from apologetic she could get. “But you’ll have to speak to the Mayor. He can see you now, if that suits?” She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, knowing she had him.

Tony pursed his lips in annoyance but then threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine. I’ll speak to the Mayor. Whatever gets me out of this town fastest.”

“Great!” she said, with a far too chipper smile. She was enjoying his pain, he could tell. “Right this way.”

He followed her through to an office, where she knocked on the door, waiting for a muffled assent before she opened it and they stepped in. “A Mr. Stark to see you, from Stark Toys.”

The man at the desk looked up from his computer and a stone fell into the pit of Tony’s stomach. _No_.

He could not be this unlucky. There was no way.

“Thanks, Darcy,” Steve Rogers said, looking just as gorgeous as the day he told Tony he didn’t love him anymore.

But now with a sexy lumberjack beard .

Tony was in hell.

“All yours, boss,” Darcy said, slipping out and pulling the door closed behind her, leaving them alone. Just the two of them. In this tiny local council office.

“Hey, Tony,” Steve said, the handsome smile Tony still dreamed about spreading across his face. “Long time, no see.”

“Steve,” Tony said, keeping his voice even. He grabbed the back of the chair and swinging down into it. He wasn’t sure his knees were going to hold him if he didn’t. “I didn’t know you were the mayor now.”

“Yeah, we finally proved old Mayor Pierce was mismanaging public funds and he was forced to step down. A few people suggested I run. So I did, and I won.”

“Course you did,” Tony said, before he could help himself. Steve gave him a warm look and he shoved down the butterflies. They weren’t kids anymore, they were different people and he wouldn’t fall into this trap.

Part of him wanted to lean over the desk and drag him into a kiss, tell him he’d never stopped loving him and he still missed him like crazy even after all this time. The other part of him wanted to rage, to yell all the hurt things he’d wanted to then but had been too shocked and in pain to do more than walk out of Steve’s house without looking back.

But he did neither. This wasn’t what he was here for. It wouldn’t change anything. He just needed to get this thing signed and get out of this dumb town and never have to look back.

He gritted his teeth and pushed the document onto the desk between them. “Apparently I need you to sign this off?”

Steve took the piece of paper, glancing over it before frowning. “Inspection? You’re selling the factory?”

Tony nodded, looking away. “Obie’s got a buyer all lined up, just needs my say-so.”

“But I thought– " Steve broke off and shook his head, looking glum. “I guess we all thought you’d take over now.”

“No,” Tony said shortly. “I have a job and a life to get back to. I just want to make this quick.”

“The factory employs half the town,” Steve told him, voice turning serious. “We need it, you can’t just sell it.”

“Give me some credit!” Tony snapped. “I’m not an arsehole. I talked to Obie.” He sighed as he looked out the window to the town square. “He says the factory’s going under. They were going to have to close down anyway. At least if I sell it, we can afford to give everyone a decent pay out.”

“That’s not what everyone’s saying,” Steve retorted, looking frustrated. “People had a lot of respect for your dad, but they don’t trust Obadiah Stane as far as they can throw him.”

“Well, since not everyone is an experienced financial advisor, I’m not surprised that they’re hoping for the best, given the alternative.”

Steve gave Tony a look. “Everyone’s been hoping you’d turn everything around.” He said it confidently, like there’d be no other outcome and Tony felt his chest get tight.

He glared. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint. But just because I’m a Stark doesn’t mean I just have to give up my life and my career to take over the family business.”

“And if you hated toy making, I’d understand that,” Steve offered calmly. “But you always had so many ideas and ways you wanted to change the company. Remember when you went to that meeting and told them they needed to make less sexist toys? You had that whole range planned for dolls with STEM jobs.”

Tony snorted bitterly. “I guess NASA engineer Molly just wasn’t what the board wanted that year.”

“And the robotics! All those AI pets and build-your-own robot projects. They were amazing.”

The wonder in his voice was exactly the same as it had been at 18 and for a moment, Tony was taken back to bursting into Steve’s house holding the prototype for Dummy and feeling a wave of pride as Steve taught him how to fetch. He’d been so happy then, so sure of them and what he wanted. It was hard to believe what had been coming only a few months later.

He let his face fall into a blank mask. “Maybe I did then, but I’ve changed. So, let’s not reminisce, alright? I just need you to sign that form so I can get out of here.”

Steve looked hurt for a moment, but then he seemed to come to some conclusion and a wide grin spread over his face.

Tony was immediately suspicious.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, and god, the movement made the material of his shirt stretch around his biceps. Seriously, where had all these muscles come from? That wasn’t fair!

“Well, Mr. Stark, I’ll be happy to approve your request,” he said, his tone falsely cheerful. “Unfortunately, for this kind of specialist job, I’ll have to send for an expert to inspect the factory, and given it’s so close to Christmas, it might take a bit of work.” He gave Tony an aw-shucks smile. “I’m sure you understand.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. “What? No! I have a flight back in two days! I can’t be hanging around here.”

“Sorry, it’s out of my hands.” Steve leant down and opened his drawer. “But I have a list here of Iron Valley’s best B&Bs, so I’m sure you’ll be able to get a room for the duration.”

“You can’t be serious– "

Steve got up and opened the door. “I hope you enjoy your stay with us, Mr Stark.”

* * *

Tony stormed back to his car and threw himself into the front seat.

“Argggh!” he yelled, burying his face into the steering wheel in frustration. How had he also forgotten that Steve Rogers was the most stubborn man he had ever met??

He leaned back, taking a deep breath, before he grabbed his phone and hit call.

“Hello?”

“How could you not tell me that Steve was the mayor?”

There was silence for a moment. “Because you banned me from talking about him years ago?”

Tony squeezed his eyes shut. “Right. Right. But when I said I had to come back here, you didn’t think, ‘oh I should probably let Tony know his ex is a big deal in town’?”

“Well when you put it like that…”

“I saw him, Rhodey,” Tony blurted out miserably. “I saw him.”

“Oh wow, how was it?”

“Awful,” Tony moaned. “He has a beard now. A lush lumberjack beard, and muscles for days.”

Rhodey made a sympathetic noise. “Yeah man, I saw it last time I was home. It is pretty luscious.”

“And now,” Tony growled, “he is trying to actively sabotage the factory sale! So, I’m stuck here until he can get an inspector in.”

“That sucks. But you know, maybe it’s good that you take a little time. You haven’t even had time to think about if this is what you want.”

“Not you, too,” Tony groaned. “I just want to get out of here.”

“Well, I guess you’re stuck until you can get everything signed off,” Rhodey said, practically but not unkindly. “Where are you staying? Mom says sorry, by the way. She said if she’d known you were coming, she would’ve left a key out for you before they left for their cruise.”

“It’s fine, _Steve_ gave me a list of B&Bs, so I guess I’ll just find a room. I just want this day to be over.”

“It’s fine. I mean, at least it’s all over now and you can just call it a night and relax.”

* * *

“No rooms? What do you mean, no rooms?”

“I’m sorry, we’re all full.”

Tony wanted to scream. “This is the fifth place I’ve called. How are you full?”

“I’m sorry,” the woman said again, sounding unfairly amused. “We’ve had an influx of visitors, most unexpected.” There was a pause and a rustling of paper. “I happen to know the Easter Lily has rooms available. If you head on over there, I’m sure the owner will be happy to have you.” 

Well, that was something at least. He jotted down the address she gave him and after thanking her, made his way to the other side of town. He knew the street, though he didn’t recognise the place.

As he pulled into the driveway, he came face to face with a two-story house, with a picket fence, and ‘The Easter Lily’ hand painted in curling script next to the door with a beautiful white and yellow flower beneath it.

He breathed a sigh of relief. This place was the epitome of small-town bed and breakfast– charming and peaceful. Just what he needed after the day he’d had.

He rapped on the door and stepped back to wait. He glanced over again at the flower painted on the wall. It was lovely, almost lifelike. It looked oddly familiar, like he’d seen it before...

The door swung open. “Tony Stark! If Stevie hadn’t said he’d seen you, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

Because Steve painted it. That’s why.

“Sarah,” he said, weakly, giving her a smile. “How are you?”

Sarah Rogers stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, smiling at him. She stepped forward and pulled him into a hug that he couldn’t help but sink into. She’d always been so kind to him, treated him as well as she did Steve, and never complained about how much time he spent at her house when his own was too cold and isolating.

When they pulled apart, she looked him over. “You look well, if a little thin. Don’t they feed you in the city?”

“ _Ma_ ,” he whined, and barely stopped himself from clapping his hand over his mouth. He forgot he used to call her that. She’d told him he could when he and Steve had finally made the move to more-than-friends. She said she’d been so sure they’d end up together that she wanted to get ahead on being his mother-in-law. God, what a joke.

_Bet she regrets that now_ , he thought grimly, but when he looked up she had a soft, fond look on her face. She didn’t say anything more about it and he was glad. He’d always felt guilty they hadn’t stayed in touch, but after Steve hurt him, everything had felt too painful.

“Come on inside then,” she said, stepping aside to let him brush past and closing the door behind her to stop the chill getting in.

The B&B was even nicer on the inside than out, and Tony let out a low whistle. “Wow, this place is great.”

“Thanks. Had it two years this February.”

“What happened to nursing?”

She gave a small smile. “Nursing got a little too much for me a few years back. So, when this place came up, I bought it, restored it, and now I rent it out.”

She stepped aside to wave him in, and he stepped into a cozy living room and open plan dining and kitchen that was very Sarah. He could see what he knew to be one of her handmade quilts on the back of the couch and a hand-painted sign reading _céad míle fáilte._

“It’s lovely,” he told her honestly, and she beamed.

“I know you’re probably tired, so head on up and settle in. You’re on the left at the end of the hall. Dinner’s in an hour. Do you think you still like my buffalo chicken?”

Tony’s stomach growled loudly, and he looked at her sheepishly. She laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes. Go on, I’ll see you back down here soon.”

Tony took his cue and wandered upstairs into the cozy bedroom. Dropping his bag, he flopped back onto the bed with a groan.

This wasn’t exactly how he’d pictured his trip home.

* * *

When he woke up the next morning, he was well rested.

He was surprised, given the day he’d had yesterday, but he should’ve known that any guest room owned by Sarah Rogers would be comfy as hell.

He’d spent a pleasant evening with her the night before, just catching up and telling her about his life in the city. She’d kindly not mentioned Steve, which had been almost a perfect torture.

Steve had hurt him, and he hated him, and he never wanted to hear about him ever again.

…but there was still a part of him that loved him. Loved him more than anyone he’d ever met and ever thought he’d meet, and he couldn’t help but crave information. Was Steve happy? Did he have the life here that he’d always wanted?

Had he found someone to make him happy the way Tony apparently couldn’t?

So he and Sarah had chatted, and it’d been nice. He’d fudged the truth a little, not wanting to worry her.

He _did_ have a good job as a computer programmer and an ok apartment. The city _did_ have an amazing atmosphere and cafes, and museums and all the good bars. 

But it was also…lonely.

Turns out making new friends is a lot harder as an adult.

He worked in a small team with a few other guys boosting security for a finance company. They were nice enough, but they kept to themselves. He’d tried once or twice to see if anyone wanted to go for a drink or something after work but most of them had families to get back to or preferred to keep to themselves.

It wasn’t exactly fun, but it paid well, and it was decent for his first job. Sure, sometimes when he was at home by himself in the evenings, in his small, boring apartment, listening to the sounds of the traffic and the bass from the nightclub down the street, he found himself sketching notes for a new gadget he thought up, or a design for a futuristic doll’s house, or an extreme train set. But that didn’t mean anything.

He just liked to tinker.

It was fine. He was fine.

“Morning,” Sarah called to him as stepped into the kitchen.

“Morning,” Tony said with a wave. “Have you got any– "

“Coffee?” She pointed to a steaming mug on the counter. “You think I don’t remember what you’re like?”

He chuckled and took a seat, inhaling the delicious scent. He took a sip. She’d remembered how he took it too.

She put a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him. “Oh no I don’t eat– "

She raised an eyebrow, one hand on her hip, and he deflated. “I mean...mmmm, breakfast.”

He finished off his food and washed his plate before he grabbed his coat. “I’m not sure what time I’ll be back, I’ve got a few errands to run.”

“No trouble.” She handed him a small bronze key. “Come and go as you please.”

He tucked the key into his pocket. “See you later.”

* * *

He walked through the town, taking in the familiar surroundings and noting all the changes.

He’d thought that he’d hate it, be glad that he wasn’t stuck here, but he found looking at it, that he felt a swell of nostalgia. He’d grown up here, after all. It was where he’d spent time with his mother before she’d passed, where he’d had friends, where he’d met Steve…

He shut that down. He needed not to think about him. He had a job to do here and then he would leave and he’d never have to come back.

He walked out into the square where they were setting up for the annual Christmas festival. It was a week-long event, and the square was covered in Christmas lights and garlands, littered with wooden cabins for food, drink and gifts.

He’d always loved the festival. It was fun and everything was delicious. His mother used to bring him when he was younger, sharing hot cocoa and roasted chestnuts, him breathing in her perfume when it got cold and she held him close. Then later, when she was gone, he’d go with friends, sneaking the mulled wine and dancing to whatever band was playing.

He sighed over the memories, feeling the warmth stolen away as he remembered why he no longer enjoyed that tradition. He couldn’t wait around for Steve to find him an inspector. He had to be proactive.

He set himself up in a cafe, getting out his laptop and calling the number of every specialist he could find.

“Fuck,” he swore as he hung up on what had to be the tenth person he’d called. He crossed them off his list, feeling disheartened at the lack of any other options. None of them were available.

Or, well, most weren’t available. The one or two who were free had suggested they would only pursue the inspection once permission from the mayor’s office was given. The man always had a head for strategy and had always been fast at gaining loyalty from others, so Tony wasn’t surprised he was being stonewalled. Being outmanoeuvred was not a good feeling.

Eventually, he bit the bullet and called the Mayor’s office.

“Sure thing, Mr. Stark,” Darcy said cheerfully. “Let me put you through to the mayor now.”

Tony tapped his pen on the cafe table, feeling an uncomfortable twitch under his skin.

“Tony?”

Tony’s eyes snapped shut. The pain was still there, ever present, even though he’d known he’d hear that voice. He hated this. Hated the vulnerability he felt just being in this stupid town.

“Steve. I’m calling to get an update on the factory inspection.”

There was a pause, and Tony wondered if maybe Steve had expected something else. “I’m afraid it’s proving more difficult than I anticipated,” he said formally. “So close to Christmas, people are busy.”

Tony’s temper sparked. “Except I called around and there are at least two free, waiting on your say-so!”

“I think you must’ve misunderstood. I’m doing my best but I’m afraid there’s no guarantee.” God, he sounded so smug. Stupid Steve with his stupid handsome face and smug attitude.

“I didn’t misunderstand. You’re trying to block this. There are inspectors available and you won’t let them do their job.”

”And yet your factory remains uninspected. So, it would seem I’m right about them not being available,” Steve replied hotly. “Maybe you need to think about whether Stark Toys should remain open, like this town needs.”

It was like arguing with a brick wall. A brick wall that was happy to turn the knife to get what it wanted. “This sale is going to happen, Steve. No matter what you do.” Tony didn’t wait, ending the call before the other man could reply. He was so frustrated.

He took a moment to breathe through his annoyance, sending an update to Rhodey before he rested his head on the table. He was never getting out of here.

He spent the rest of the day catching up on some of his work before dragging himself back to Sarah’s. She’d left a note for him, letting him know she was out for the evening, but had left him dinner to heat up.

The gesture made him feel fuzzy. He spent the evening watching Netflix on his laptop and savouring the taste of a second home cooked meal. he hadn’t eaten this well in years.

His phone dinged, letting him know Obie wanted to meet with him and he shot back an affirmative. Settling in to sleep, he let his brain fall quiet and tried not to dream.

* * *

Tony wandered out of his meeting feeling somehow chastened and irritable.

_“How goes our sale, my boy?”_

_Tony sighed. “I still haven’t got an inspection scheduled. The Mayor’s office is pushing back. They want to keep the factory Obie, you know that. Maybe we should reconsider.”_

_“I’ve told you, it’s just not possible. We don’t have the money. You need to make this happen, for the workers and for us.” Obie raised a brow. “No matter your **personal attachments**.”_

No doubt that Obie knew the problem. Hell, he probably knew that he held no sway with Steve, who had never liked the CFO, and thought Tony the easier path.

He rounded the corner, still deep in thought, and screeched to a halt.

He turned, trying to look natural and headed in the opposite direction. He had just made it to the end of the block and almost out of sight, when-

“Hey, Tony!”

Tony swore under his breath but spun to face the group of men walking towards him. “Hey guys, long time no see.”

The pack of muscled men - decked out in what Tony could now see was hockey gear - approached him at speed, with Thor Odinsson swinging him into a bear hug as he reached him.

“Tony Stark!” he bellowed, swinging him around. “It’s been a long time since I have held you in my arms!”

“Grrrrk!” Tony managed, gasping in air. “Hey Thor, buddy, good to see you.”

Thor released him and he dropped to the ground, only to be steadied by Sam. “Hey man, how’ve you been?”

“Not bad, yourself?” Tony asked lamely, feeling a bit overwhelmed. He was spun around, then, to face Clint Barton, who grinned.

“Man, I’ve missed having another short guy on the team, you should visit more often .”

He ruffled Tony’s hair and ignored his indignant squawk. There was a tap on his shoulder and Tony looked to see Natasha smiling at him dangerously. “You should’ve told me you were in town.”

He swallowed; he hadn’t seen her behind the blond wall of Thor and he knew she’d have her revenge for his slight.

“Yeah sorry, it’s been– "

Then he saw who he’d really been avoiding and felt the words die in his throat. How did Steve manage to look even better in his training gear?

Thor swung an arm around his shoulders. “We’re going to the ice rink for a pick-up game. You should join us; it’ll be like old times.”

“Oh, I couldn’t– "

“Nah man, it’ll be helpful. Bucky has to work, so we’re down a person. Now we can play three-on-three,” Sam put in helpfully.

“Seriously, I haven’t played in years.”

Natasha slipped her arm through his. “Come, we haven’t seen you and it’ll be nice to catch up. Plus, it’s high time you got back on the ice if it’s been that long.”

When Natasha made up her mind, she wouldn’t change it come hell or high water, and Tony sighed, accepting his fate. “You guys got spare skates?”

* * *

It had been a while since Tony had been on the ice, it was true. But that didn't mean that he didn’t remember all the tells and tricks his old friends used to get up to. They made him goalie, which was fine by him, to give him time to get his ice legs back, but by half time he was already trash talking Thor and catching the puck with ease.

They made him leave goal in the second half and he managed to tackle Sam at least once, so he was feeling pretty good.

“Stop being such a baby Wilson, I barely touched you,” he taunted as Sam rubbed at his ass from where he fell.

“Fuck off, Stark,” Sam shouted back with a grin.

The puck was dropped, and Tony slammed it free of the huddle, and skating around Thor and Clint. He picked it back up as it hit the other side heading towards the goal. Steve was standing there, tall and unmoving, and Tony was torn between wanting to kiss him and wanting to slam the puck into his smug face. He moved to take the shot, but the distraction had cost him just enough time to underestimate the distance.

He sped forward and realising his mistake, he tried to brake. He slid forward as his right skate twisted, and he lost control, tumbling full tilt into a solid wall.

A solid wall of hot, firm muscle. The momentum sent both of them tumbling into the net.

Tony would’ve hit the ground hard, except Steve’s arm came up around his neck, pulling him in and rolling them so he took the brunt of the fall.

When he finally opened his eyes, he looked down to see Steve above him, arms caging him protectively, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe.

Because it was so familiar, that protective streak, and it hurt all the more for it. He and Steve stared at each other for a moment, as if nothing and no one else existed. Finally, Steve’s mouth moved as if he was about to say something–

“Yo, are we playing or what?” Clint yelled, followed by a loud yelp as someone hit him. But it didn’t matter, the moment was broken and Steve pushed himself up and away, leaving Tony strangely cold. He let Natasha help him to his feet when she skated over as he watched Steve joke with Sam and Thor.

He felt a wave of longing shoot through him, and for a moment he just stared. He was nudged out of his reverie by Natasha, who had an eyebrow raised– in judgment he had no doubt. He gave her a look, and when she didn’t give in, he sighed.

‘ _Later,_ ’ he mouthed, and she nodded in acceptance. He wouldn’t get out of a chat with her, so it was better just to make his peace with it now.

He straightened his pads and grabbed his stick ready for the next play. 

* * *

“Have you even talked to him?”

Natasha handed him a beer and took a seat at the table, the two of them watching the other men try their hands at darts.

He’d seen Steve staring at him when they’d been buying the round, but once Natasha had taken his arm, he’d gone to join the others in their game.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You know why.”

He’d stayed in touch with Nat over everyone else, though not as well as he should’ve. She was the only one he’d spilled the tale to from back home besides Rhodey, and she’d carefully not taken sides, which was both helpful and annoying at the same time.

“You know I can’t break confidence,” and Tony huffed because it was the same line she’d given him anytime they’d discussed the breakup, “but you know I’ve always said there was more to it than you thought. And now’s the time to talk to him about it. You finally have the chance and I don’t know why you’re not taking it.”

She gave him a sad sort of look and Tony gave her a questioning brow. “Well, it’s not as if the city is making you all that happy is it?”

Tony stared. “How would you know? It’s not as if I’ve ever told you much about my job.”

She sipped her drink. “And that was telling in itself.” She flicked her eyes to meet his. “The city can be a lonely place, especially for someone who skipped so fast through college. I imagine it was hard being the youngest in all those advanced classes.”

“You’re not wrong about that.” Tony seemed perpetually surrounded by people older than him, or in a different stage of life, and it was a struggle to connect with any of them for more than a study session or a polite chit chat. He should’ve known Natasha would realise something was amiss.

“I just think that you were so desperate to get away - not that I blame you - that you didn’t think that maybe you’d be happier here. It wasn’t just Steve you left behind you know. We all missed you.”

“I’m sorry.” He’d never meant to hurt anyone else; he hadn’t been able to handle his own pain at that point.

“Don’t do it again,” her eyes flashed, and Tony swallowed.

“You got it.”

“I’m not trying to guilt you into staying, just, if you do go, please don’t cut us all out again?”

Tony nodded, looping an arm round her to give him a one-armed hug and a kiss on the hair. “I promise.”

Two glasses slammed down on the table in front of them and Sam slid into the seat dragging Steve in beside him. “What are you two gossiping about?”

Tony stiffened at Steve being so close, even as the other man kept his eyes on Sam. Natasha, feeling his distress, piped up taking away the attention.

“Not that it’s any of your business Wilson,” Natasha said primly, “but we were discussing the poor technique of the darts, weren’t we Tony?”

Relieved not to have to air his problems in front of everyone, Tony leapt onto the subject change. “Awful. I could’ve sworn they were better at it but looks like that was just nostalgia.”

“Hey, hey,” Sam said grinning. “You two think you could do better?”

“I think we both know we could,” Tony flashed him a wicked smile, and Sam laughed.

“Come on, them’s fighting words and you know it. On your feet, Stark.”

There was a snort and Tony’s eyes snapped to Steve who smiled. “Take ‘em to the cleaners Tony.”

It was dumb, but the soft praise gave him a warm thrill and this time he just let it happen. He smiled in response, and got up to kick ass at dart, feeling Steve’s eyes on him the whole time.

* * *

In the end, he’d had a great time catching up with them all. They’d wandered out of the bar around ten, and he’d started to walk before he’d felt a hand on his arm.

“I’ll drop you home,” Steve offered.

“It’s fine, I can walk,” Tony protested. This had been fine, but the idea of being stuck in a car with Steve seemed dangerous.

“Come on, Tony. Please? It’s cold out and I hate to think of you shivering and walking in the dark.”

It was cold. And it would be a short trip by car back to the Easter Lily. “OK, fine.”

Steve gave him a soft smile and led him over to his Jeep before climbing in. Tony stared at the car. “Where the hell did you get this thing?”

“Bought it off a guy in town. I needed a car, he wanted to upgrade, it was a match made in heaven. She’s a beast, but reliable as hell, I wouldn’t trade her for anything.”

And wasn't that Steve all over? Loyal and practical, never taking the nice things for himself. Tony climbed into the Jeep beside him and belted up. No need to get too chatty– this could just be a civilised ride. 

They drive in silence for most of the trip, the radio playing Christmas carols in the background.

“You seemed like you were having fun?” Steve asked tentatively and Tony nodded.

“It was nice seeing them, it’s been awhile.”

“Couple of years, yeah.”

He was sure Steve didn’t mean it that way, but it sounded accusing to Tony’s ears. “Well, whose fault is that?”

“Tony…”

“No, stop, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We should talk. But you’re right. Not now.” Steve pulled up outside the B&B, leaving the jeep idling.

Tony grasped the door handle but didn’t step out. “Yeah, maybe we should.”

“Could you– " Steve’s hands clenched once on the steering wheel. “Why don’t you come by my place tomorrow? We can talk?”

“Ok,” he said softly.

Steve gave him a hopeful smile. “Great. That’s - so great. Thanks Tony. We sold the old house, so I have a new place. Ma can give you the address.”

Tony nodded and got out, closing the door behind him.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Steve.”

* * *

The next morning, Tony's stomach was twisting with nerves.

He never thought he’d have to do this again, but here he was, about to have a heart to heart with Steve, someone whom he vowed he’d never let hurt him again.

God he was such an idiot.

Tony rounded the corner, and after a glance at the number on the mailbox, walked up to swing open the old wooden gate.

“Urk!” he managed as he was immediately bowled over. When he looked up, he saw a familiar furry face staring down at him. He laughed.

“Hey, buddy!” he rubbed the big golden labrador behind the ears. Dodger rubbed his wet nose over Tony’s face. “Guess you still remember me, huh? It’s been awhile.”

He heard the sound of a door slamming and Dodger was hauled off him. He looked up to see Steve standing over him. “Sorry about that.”

He held out a hand to help Tony up. “He missed you, you know. When you left. Moped for weeks.”

Tony looked at him. “Yeah me too.”

There was an awkward pause before Steve threw his thumb over his shoulder. “You wanna come in? I can put some coffee on.”

Tony groaned with appreciation. “God yes, I forgot how damn cold this place is.”

Steve laughed, and obligingly led him inside. Dodger followed dutifully, shaking his wet coat before he curled up on a dog bed next to the door.

The house was…well.

It was perfect. And very Steve.

It was warm inside, heated by a cheery fireplace in the living room. A cozy living room decorated with a few canvases that he could tell were Rogers originals. He’d only gotten better with time. He could see the kitchen around the corner – warm wooden cabinets and bright cream walls. All the furniture was comfy looking, and the decorating was masculine, but not any less stylish for it.

He turned to Steve who was looking a little expectant. “Nice place you got here.”

“Thanks, it’s been a bit of work.”

Tony gestured to lounge. “You do the decorating yourself?”

Steve flushed. “Ah yeah, mostly. Natasha helped, but I watch a lot of _Queer Eye_.”

Tony laughed. “Well, you’d do Bobby proud, this looks amazing.”

So much nicer than his awful apartment. This was welcoming and inviting, and Tony could see Steve here: curled up with Dodger watching TV, painting in the dining alcove, having Bucky and the others around for dinner parties, cooking in the kitchen with his sleeves rolled up and a tea towel over his shoulder .

It made his chest hurt and he had to bury it before it showed on his face. He cleared his throat. “When did you move in?”

Steve gestured him to follow and they moved to the kitchen so Steve could start the coffee brewing. “I got really lucky.” He scooped coffee into the carafe. “You, uh, you remember Doctor Erskine?”

Tony thought back. “The German guy, right?”

Steve hummed agreement as poured the hot water. “Well he was getting on in years, so I used to come around and do odd jobs for him. Mow the lawn, clear the gutters and that sort of stuff. He didn’t have any kids, and he was on his own once his wife passed away, so I thought I’d lend a hand.” He placed two mugs on the counter. “And apparently he appreciated it. Like a lot. And he left me this place in his will.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. “What, really?”

“Yup. So, I was taken care of, so Ma sold the old place and used the money to buy the B&B.”

“Wow, that’s- that’s great Steve.” He looked around the room, his eye catching on a portrait of Dodger on the wall and he laughed. “You’ve gotten better. I mean you were good before, but wow.”

Steve ears went red. “You don’t have to say that.”

“Don’t be modest. Anyone with eyes can see how good you are.” He stared at the canvas a little longer. “Did you have a good time at NYU?”

“I didn’t go.”

Tony’s head snapped around. “Excuse me?”

“I uh, changed my mind. Decided to stay here. I did my art degree at the community college over in St. Paul. I used to teach at the rec centre, but then I got made mayor and I get a decent wage for that.”

Tony struggled to reign in his shock. He’d known Steve was still in town from Rhodey, but he’d thought that was a recent development. In his darker moments, he imagined Steve living in up in New York City with some hot, artsy type and that maybe Steve had decided to move home for some reason– not that he’d never left. “But, what about all your plans?”

Steve shrugged as he pushed the plunger down and poured two mugs of coffee. “Things change. But it’s all worked out. I have a house debt free, and now that I get paid as mayor, I’ve had time to paint. I sell a lot of pieces actually. I have deals with a few galleries in the county and I go to art fairs a couple of times a year. I do a few commissions.” He looked Tony in the eyes. “I’m happy, Tony .”

Steve gave him another smile and Tony actually felt himself melt. Goddamn it. He needed to remember why he was here.

“Look, part of why I came by was because I need you to speed up the inspection.” He hugged his coffee, soaking in the warmth.

“You can’t sell the factory, Tony. We need it here; you know that.”

“Steve,” Tony pleaded. “Come on, you know it’s not an option. Obie explained it all to me. Good old Dad was a whizz with the designs, but it turns out, not so great with the numbers. We’ve been barely making enough to stay afloat for years.”

Steve shook his head. “But you could save it! You’ve had better ideas than your Dad and Obadiah for years. Why not try and turn it around?”

“Because I have a job already. And an apartment. And the last thing I need is the stress of a failing business.” He sighed. “The new owners will come in and set something else up. Then everyone will reapply for jobs and it’ll be fine. And I promise they’ll get money to keep them going in the meantime. But I can’t stay.”

“I just think it could be good for you.”

Tony looked into his mug. “Steve– "

A hand wrapped around his and he looked up. Steve’s eyes were concerned but warm and still the most perfect shade of blue he’d seen in his life. “Please, Steve.”

Steve sighed and nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.”

Steve gave him a sad smile but then seemed to perk up. “Since you’ll be leaving soon, could we at least spend a little time together? I have to go to the Christmas festival in town– you remember it, right? I have to go as mayor, and I thought maybe you’d like to go with me?”

It was a bad idea. Such a bad idea. He’d already delayed his flights once, for god’s sake, and he wasn’t made of money. The best thing to do was to stay away from Steve and just finish up his business and leave. There was no reason to see Steve again, he could just cut the final tie of Stark Toys and go back to the city and move on for good.

“I’d love to.”

* * *

Tony arrived at the festival just in time for the official opening and the coveted (and tongue-in-cheek) ‘Mayor of the Year’ award, in which the mayor was crowned and asked to formally open the festival.

Steve took the ceremony with good grace, accepting the shiny silver tiara and glittery purple sash with good humour and a clumsy curtsey. He gave a short speech, to much applause, before stepping off the stage, his eyes lighting up when they landed on Tony.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Tony answered with a grin. “Looks good on you.”

Steve straightened the tiara regally. “I’ll have you know this is a highly respected position.” He smoothed a hand over the sash. _“Highly_ respected.”

“Oh sure, it was a tough category.” Tony reached out without thinking and brushed his fingers on the silk. “I wish I could’ve seen the talent portion.”

Steve laughed. “Guess you’ll have to come next year. Catch the show.”

Next year. The thought of it made Tony’s chest ache. He rubbed a hand over his breastbone trying to ease it.

Steve seemed to pick up on the tenor of his thoughts and changed the subject. “Do you want to go check out the stalls? I should really do the rounds.”

“Sure.”

He and Steve wandered the market, taking in the trinkets for sale, sampling some of the food on offer, Steve talking to damn near everyone. Everyone they spoke to seemed to know Tony as well, though they never said so directly. It felt oddly like they were a celebrity couple, but Tony squashed that thought down nearly as soon as he’d thought it.

They were two acquaintances attending an event. Nothing more.

The festival itself had improved over the years, with decent picnic table style seating and sturdy wooden cabins instead of tables for the sellers. It was gorgeous, Christmas lights crisscrossing overhead and mini Christmas trees everywhere. The atmosphere was nice too; everyone was excited for the holidays and having a great time. He loved it.

As they were walking, Steve suddenly grabbed his arm and dragged him over to a stall excitedly. “Remember when we used to play these? You won me that giant plush Pikachu.” He looked at Tony. “Reckon you could still do it?”

Tony looked at the three stacks of cans and raised a brow. “Is that a challenge Rogers?”

“Only if you think you haven’t gone soft, living in the city,” Steve threw back and Tony barked out a laugh.

“You are so going to eat those words.” He slapped some money down and gathered up the three bean bag balls, tossing one in his hand. The game was just physics and angles after all; this would be easy. “What do you want? The giraffe?”

“I was thinking you could win something for Dodger. He likes to cuddle with them and I’m a bit old for stuffed toys.”

Well, that image was just too cute. “For Dodger it is, then.”

He sized up his opponent, took aim and–

Missed.

Steve snorted and Tony glared. “Still two to go.”

The next two were not all that more successful, though at least they hit. The cans stared at him with every shot, gleaming mockingly in the golden reflections of the Christmas lights.

It took Tony three tries and $9 (turned out he was rustier than he thought), but eventually he knocked down the tower and crowed in victory. The man at the stall laughed, letting him pick out a medium sized lion. “Still got it. Your prize, m’lady.”

Steve snorted but took the lion with a pleased expression. “Should’ve known better than to dare a Stark, huh?”

“Damn right.”

They wandered around a little longer until Tony started to flag, and Steve suggested hot cocoa. They grabbed a couple of mugs topped with whipped cream and cinnamon to chase away the winter chill. They parked up on a bench, watching the local school choir sing a medley of Christmas carols as people bustled around them.

Tony shivered as the wind picked up and blew a cold chill down his spine. He held the warm mug close trying to absorb its heat and was unsurprised when he felt warm wool wind its way around his neck.

“You really should dress warmer,” Steve told him sternly and Tony smiled unrepentant. Right on time.

“You’d never let me freeze,” he said, aiming for joking, but coming out far too earnest.

“Never.”

Tony snuggled into the scarf, trying not to look obvious as he breathed in Steve’s cologne.

They sat there awhile, chatting, and try as he might, Tony couldn’t help himself from enjoying it. He’d missed this, missed Steve, and it was hard to think about doing anything but trying to get him back and keeping him forever.

Eventually Steve suggested they get something to eat and they wandered over to one of the stalls to grab dessert. Tony recognised Mrs. Parker instantly. Her pumpkin pie was the best thing, and she always made it for the festival.

Steve gave him a knowingly look, and Tony had to check that he hadn’t actually drooled. They made it to the counter, Steve ordering two pieces and chatting amiably to Mrs. Parker. Tony kept his eyes on the prize, watching the dairy whip being sprayed onto the pie in graceful swirls. Steve turned to ask him something, but before he could answer, an arm swing around his shoulders and a loud voice spoke in his ear.

“Heard you were thinking of selling up,” the man said loudly, clearly having had a few. “But I guess the mayor convinced you otherwise.” He laughed, giving Steve a nudge with his elbow. “Way to take one for the team Rogers.”

Steve flushed slightly, and muttered, “Shut up, Pietro.”

Tony felt himself go cold. Was that what this was? A ploy to keep him here? Steve cared about the town a lot. He'd anything to look after the people here, why should Tony think he wouldn’t be willing to do this?

A woman came up, grabbing the man’s arm and detaching him from Tony, clearly embarrassed. “Sorry Steve, you know what he’s like.”

“I’m just saying, we appreciate the mayor getting Mr. Stark to stay,” Pietro argued. ”Stark stays, we keep our jobs and he gets the mayor. It’s a win-win for everyone.”

“That’s enough Pietro,” the woman snapped, and gave him a decisive tug. “Sorry Steve, Mr. Stark. Enjoy your evening and ignore my brother, he’s an idiot.” She pulled him away, disappearing into the crowd.

Steve was stiff, still clearly feeling uncomfortable. Tony waited for him to refute it, but he just sat there awkwardly, and Tony felt a tightness in his chest.

It was true then. That’s all this was. Steve didn’t care about him, he just needed him. No, not even him. His stupid failing factory that his father had run into the ground and left for Tony to clean up his mess. How could he have been so stupid and fallen for it _again_?

“I need some air,” he said, knowing it sounded dumb even as he said it. They were outside for fucks sake.

He untangled himself from Steve’s scarf and got up from the bench, hurrying away. He didn’t get far before Steve grabbed his shoulder to stop him. “Hey Tony, wait, where are you going?”

Tony glared at him. “Let me go.”

Steve’s hand dropped immediately, and a wary expression spread across his face. “What’s going on?”

“Why don’t you ask your buddy back there, huh?”

Steve’s shoulders slumped. “Come on Tony, he was drunk and just mouthing off. You can’t take him seriously.”

Tony stared at him, angry and hurt beyond all belief, and suddenly it rushed out of him like a flood, fast and raging.

“No!” Tony said, slicing a hand through the air definitively. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to act like I’m being unreasonable!” He was breathing hard and very aware that they were attracting a lot of looks.

“You broke my heart Steve! I loved you and you told me you loved me and that you’d always be there to support me. And then– " he pushed his hands through his hair in frustration. “And then out of nowhere you tell me that it wasn’t true. You told me to my face that you didn’t care about me anymore and I’m what? Supposed to just be fine with it?”

He gestured between them. “And what is this now, huh? Am I loveable again because now I come with a factory? A factory this town needs. Oh, oh, of course. This was plan B I suppose, for when I decided I didn’t want to step into my father’s shoes. You’d make me care about you and I’d be too guilty to sell up. I mean, it’s a commitment to be sure. I didn’t know you had it in you to wake up every morning for the next 50 years with a man you don’t love just to save this town, but then you’ve always loved playing the self-sacrificing hero!”

Steve was staring at him, looking fairly horrified, made all the worse by the fact that he was still wearing the goddamn tiara!

Tony honestly couldn’t take it anymore. He could see more than a few curious eyes trying to pretend not to be listening and it was more than fitting that the town get to see him like this. He’d never been anonymous here, not as the son of the biggest employer in Iron Valley. And now he stood in the middle of their Christmas celebration, screaming at the mayor .

He felt something wet touch his face, and for a moment he thought it was tears. But as he looked up, a snowflake fell from the sky and landed on his glove.

Well, wasn’t that just perfect. A light flurry fell around them, and the snow started to settle in Steve’s stupid, hot beard and fuck. Tony couldn’t be here anymore.

“Tony,” Steve started, taking a step towards him, but Tony shook his head.

“I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see you. I’m out of here.”

He took off without a second glance, pushing his way through the crowd of onlookers and trying to ignore the cold, sad feeling in his chest.

He could hear Steve calling after him, but he slipped through a gap and disappeared behind a stall. He had to get away before anyone tried to _talk_ to him about it.

He escaped from the festival, driving back to the Easter Lily and barely paying any attention to the journey as his mind swirled with thoughts. He couldn’t believe he’d fallen for it. Never again.

He hurriedly packed his things at the B&B and left Sarah a note on the counter, thanking her and apologising for his abrupt departure. Maybe she’d been in on Steve’s plan, but he doubted it. That wasn’t her way, and she was too kind to mess with his feeling like that.

He drove around for a while, unsure of what to do. He’d checked flights and they were all booked out with people trying to get home. The best he could do was Boxing Day.

He shivered as he started to get cold. He couldn’t just stay in his car all night, he’d freeze.

Eventually he pulled into a parking spot outside a little coffee shop. He’d warm up and then decide after that.

A bell above the door jingled as he pushed it open, careful to close it behind to keep the cold out. The shop was warm, inviting and covered in tasteful decorations.

If Tony’s life wasn’t falling apart, he was pretty sure he would find it charming.

It was empty, likely because of the festival, but the sign on the door said open so he wasn’t too concerned.

He wandered up to the counter casting his eyes over the menu board above it. He didn’t even know what to get. He just wanted something to wrap his hands around.

“Just a minute!” a voice called from the back and a moment later a man walked around the corner. “Hi, what can I– Tony?!”

Tony stared back at him. “No.”

Bucky gawked at him. “No?”

“No!” Tony near shouted. “I’m in hell. I’m in actual hell. No matter where I can’t seem to catch a break! What are you even doing here?!”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “…I own the place?”

Tony slammed his eyes shut and groaned. _Brewchanan’s_. Of course.

“Buchanan. Right. I should have realised.”

“Well, I could hardly call it _BuckyBucks_ , could I?” Bucky tilted his head at him. “Are you ok?”

Tony put his arms on the counter and rested his forehead on his wrists. “I’m just peachy. Everyone is fine. Christmas is magical.”

Bucky snorted. “Oh yeah, looks like.” He was silent for a moment. “Are you leaving?”

Tony looked over and realised he had spotted Tony’s bag on the floor. “What, Steve didn’t already message you? Or actually anyone in town, really.”

Bucky shrugged. “He might’ve done. My phone was dead, so I left it on the charger in the break room.” He stepped over to the machine. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll bring something over?”

Tony slumped over to the table and sat down, listening to the sounds of the machine and letting himself breathe. A moment later a mug was placed down in front of him and Bucky dropped into the seat opposite.

“So, want to tell me about it before I read Steve’s lovesick version on my phone later?”

Tony snorted derisively. “Lovesick. Sure.” He took a sip. It was annoyingly perfect.

“He’s been going on about you since you came back. If that ain’t lovesick I don’t know what is.”

Tony frowned. “You don’t have to pretend. I’m sure you knew all about his plan. It’s fine. I get it. I don’t know if I can even blame him. The town needs the factory and I was…an expedient way to keep it.”

Now Bucky was the one frowning. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Steve pretending he cared so I wouldn’t sell up.” He gave a humourless laugh. “I can’t believe I fell for it to be honest. How pathetic is that?”

“I honestly don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Steve’s been crazy about you since high school and that definitely didn’t change just because you left. How many relationships do you think he’s had since you’ve been gone huh?”

Tony huffed. “He’s the town sweetheart. I’m pretty sure he was flooded with offers once I was out of the picture.”

“Oh, he got offers. Do you know how many he agreed to?” Bucky made a circle with his thumb and forefinger. “None. Not once.”

“Bullshit.”

“Not bullshit. He said he’d already met the love of his life and he didn’t much see the point in pretending with anyone else.”

Tony stared at him, mouth open. “Bucky, what the fuck. He dumped me. That’s a really clear indication that someone doesn’t love you. Actually, so is ‘I don’t love you anymore’.”

“Look, I can’t go into that, that’s Steve’s stuff. But you need to ask him why he said what he said.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” Tony grumbled. “What I need to do is get out of here and get back to my life and my job and my apartment.”

“Oh yeah? You happy there?”

Tony froze. No one had actually asked him outright. “What? Yeah. Of course I am.”

“Computer security, right? Yeah, real riveting. I bet you get plenty of creative output and get to really do the thing you love there right?”

“Buck…” Tony growled, his hackles up.

“Yup, I bet that guy who loved designing kids the kinds of toys that they need really flexes his designer muscles at an I.T. job, yes sir.”

“Stop!” Tony said, slamming his mug down. “I can’t right now, please.”

Bucky out his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine, I’ll hold my tongue. When’s your flight out?”

Tony snorted. “Not till Boxing Day. Everything’s booked.”

“So where are you heading then?”

“I don’t know!” And for the first time, Tony actually felt his eyes prick with tears. Oh god. He was actually going to cry in front of his ex-boyfriend's best friend.

Actually, that felt exactly like the cherry on top of a horrible experience, so it was probably pretty fitting.

“Ok, ok, geez,” Bucky reached out and patted his shoulder. “Don’t do that. You can come and stay at my place.”

Tony shook his head. “I couldn’t.”

“Yes, you could. Come on, what else are you going to do? I can’t let you go driving around in this.”

He pointed outside and Tony turned to see the snow had gotten heavier. He sighed.

“Won’t Sam mind?”

“Nah. He likes you.”

“I don’t want to see Steve. And I don’t want him to know.”

“I promise. We won’t tell him. You can just have some breathing space, ok?”

Tony nodded. “Thanks, Buck.”

“No problem. My price is you have to help me lock up, though. I want to get out of here ASAP.”

“Yeah, of course.” He put his hand on Bucky’s. “Really, thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know you had your reasons for leaving, but we were your friends too, you know.”

Tony felt a swell of emotion in his chest. “I know.”

* * *

“Alright, here’s some blankets, bathroom’s first door on the right,” Sam said, dropping a pile of folded blankets and a pillow on the couch. “There’s a towel on the bathroom counter if you want to shower and help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”

He smiled. “I know you missed out on the pumpkin pie at the festival– " His tone told Tony he knew exactly what had gone down. “so, I grabbed you a piece before I head out. It’s in the fridge.”

Tony hugged the pillow to his chest. “Thanks, okay Sam. Honestly, you guys don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Seriously, it’s fine.” Sam said, putting a hand on his hip. “I know this has been tough on you, what with your dad and factory and all of it. So don’t worry. We’re happy to have you. It can’t have been easy staying at Sarah’s either.”

“No,” Tony agreed. “I mean, you know her, she was so great, but it’s not ideal having to stay with your ex’s Ma.”

“Yeah, I get that. I left Steve at the festival when I got Bucky’s message and I’m pretty sure he was going to head over there. So, don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll explain everything to her.”

“Yeah.”

“Anyway, it’s probably time you got some sleep. Now, one quick thing before you hit the hay– "

“Coming in hot!” Bucky’s voice yelled from the kitchen and then there was a tok-tok-tok sound getting closer and closer.

Suddenly something brushed up against Tony’s leg and he jumped. “Argh! What?!”

“Ma-aaaa,” a small goat bleated, and gently butted his leg.

“What?” Tony repeated, looking at Sam.

“So, this is Twinkle Toes. She’s meant to be an outside goat–” he raised his voice pointedly and Tony heard Bucky laugh, “–but someone was too soft. We got her from shelter and we’re just lucky it turns out she’s a pygmy. So, she stays in here, sorry.” He leaned down and pet her. “She’s toilet trained and really friendly.” He straightened up. “If you don’t want her in here, I can take her to our room, it’s fine.”

Tony looked at the goat and shook his head. “Nah it’s fine, I don’t mind.”

“Ok, great. Twinkie, bed.”

He pointed and the goat wandered over to a little pet bed in the corner before lying down. Toy couldn’t help but laugh. ”Couldn’t just get a cat huh?”

“Nope, that’s not really our style.” Sam wandered over to the door. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it. Have a good sleep.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

Tony went and brushed his teeth and cleaned his face before he spread out the blankets on the couch. He lay down curling up underneath the blankets, finally feeling a little of the tension leave his body. He was asleep in minutes.

* * *

Tony awoke to the sound of snickering and reluctantly opened his eyes. “Huh?”

Bucky was standing there his phone pointed at him and clearly trying to hold in laughter. “Sorry! I just had to get a picture.”

Tony frowned but then became aware of a warm weight on his back. He turned slightly to see Twinkie sprawled out on him dozing comfortably. “Oh my god.”

He shifted slightly to get a better look, accidentally jostling her. She opened her eyes grumpily and huffed. Tony laughed. “Sorry!”

Bucky snorted. “Don’t let her manipulate you. Trust me, you’ll end up lying on the couch all day.” He leaned down and scooped her up. “I’d better take her out. I’ve made coffee if you want some.”

Tony wandered into the kitchen just as Sam stumbled in, still in his t-shirt and boxers. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Sam yawned. He took the mug Tony handed him and took a sip. “Have a good sleep?”

There was amusement in his tone and Tony raised a brow questioningly. Sam held up his phone to show him a picture of himself with Twinkie curled up against him.

Tony sighed. “I blame you. Who gets an indoor goat, anyway?”

Sam threw a thumb over his shoulder. “That weirdo.” Tony looked out the window over his shoulder to see Bucky running around being chased by Twinkie and he burst out laughing. “And yet you keep him around.”

“Yeah,” Sam said fondly. “Yeah, I do. The big lug.”

Tony sat at the counter as Sam made toast, enjoying the calm sound of he and Bucky going about their morning routine. It was like a dance – they knew each other so well, born of years of intimacy and familiarity, and Tony ached for it. He’d wanted that with Steve. It was the life they should’ve had instead of the one he got and he had to swallow back a wave of sadness as Sam dropped a plate in front of him.

Bucky flopped into the seat in front of him, watching him warily.

“What?” Tony asked.

“He’s trying to decide if he should break the bro code or not,” Sam offered helpfully from where he was spreading peanut butter on his toast.

“Which rule are you breaking?” Tony asked curiously.

Bucky stared for a moment longer and then sighed, pulling his phone from his pocket. He flipped it around so Tony could see the lock screen.

Or rather, Tony could see the rolls and rolls of messages from Steve.

“Oh,” he whispered.

“Yeah, he went by his Ma’s looking for you. He was pretty distraught when he realised you’d left.”

Tony looked down at his plate, feeling conflicted.

Bucky put his hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I want you to know this doesn’t change anything.”

Tony looked at his questioningly.

“I won’t tell him you’re here if you don’t want me to. I wasn’t trying to make it harder for you. I just wanted to make sure that no matter what you’re thinking right now, it isn’t that Steve doesn’t love you. He does, even if he has been an idiot about this whole thing.”

“Oh sure,” Tony said, half-heartedly. “I’m sure he definitely loves me, and not, I don’t know, my big toy factory.”

Bucky slumped forward. “Oh my god.” He turned to Sam. “I’m going to have to do it, aren’t I?”

Sam rubbed a hand over his face. “I think you have to.”

Bucky took a deep breath, then scrolled through his phone looking for something. After a moment, he turned it so Tony could see.

Oh.

_Oh._

Because what greeted him was not a message as he’d expected, but a photo.

A rather embarrassing photo for all it filled Tony with warmth.

It was Steve. Or rather, it was Steve, quite tragically curled up on a couch. Wrapped in what Tony knew, could still remember even now, was Steve’s ‘sad day’ quilt. Dodger was lying curled up on his legs, his head on Steve’s hip, reminiscent of Tony and Twinkie, but most telling was what was in his arms. DUM-E. The little robot Tony had made him, who never worked right, but Steve had loved, cuddled tight against Steve’s chest.

“Who took that?”

“Sarah. She thinks he’s being stupid about the whole thing and should just talk to you, so she’s not above a little embarrassment.” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “So, still think he’s not hung up on you?” When Tony didn’t deny it, he nodded satisfied. “That’s what I thought. Also, I never showed you this.”

Tony felt a burst of hope in his belly and he chuckled. “Not a chance.” He took a sip of coffee, rubbing his knuckles over his chest. “I’m not ready to see him yet, I’m still a little worn out and angry at him. But I’ll tell you what - how about I even the playing field a bit?”

Sam caught on quicker than Bucky and a wide grin spread over his face. “Please let me send it.”

“You’d better add a filter so I look hot as hell, even with the goat,” Tony warned, reaching for the cereal.

Bucky snorted. “Trust me, Stevie doesn’t need a filter for that.”

* * *

Tony stayed out of the exchange with Steve, but Bucky must’ve kept his word because Steve didn’t try to contact him or come around to the house, giving Tony some space.

But someone (Sam) apparently decided it wasn’t healthy for him to mope either, and around lunchtime there was a knock at the door.

“Tony!” Carol Danvers called, coming into the living room. She scooped him up into a hug, lifting him off the floor before he could say a word. Damn, she was strong.

“Hey, Carol,” he wheezed when she put him down. He saw someone over her shoulder. “Who’s this?”

Carol grinned proudly and swung an arm around the woman next to her. “This is Maria, my co-pilot and co-parent.”

Maria rolled her eyes. “Fiancée is the more traditional term. And this is my daughter, Monica.” A little girl next to her waved. Maria held out a hand for Tony to shake, “Lovely to finally meet the guy the whole town’s been talking about.”

Tony groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

Monica’s jaw dropped. “This is Steve’s boyfriend?”

Carol shushed her. “This is Tony,” she told her, a little sternly. "Because we don’t listen to gossip, do we?”

Monica rolled her eyes. “Nooo.”

Carol rubbed a hand over the kid’s head, laughing when she yelped. “Good. Now, where the hell is Bucky, I’m dying for a coffee.”

“In here!” Bucky called, and they all moved into the kitchen to sit around the island and catch up.

It was nice. He hadn’t spoken to Carol in ages, though they’d exchanged the occasional email after he’d left. She was happy – she had a career she loved and was great at by all accounts, she’d met the love of her life who also loved flying, and she’d gotten a kid out of the deal, who she clearly adored. It was hard not to feel envious, but he was so happy for her. She’d been the first person he’d come out to after Rhodey. They’d been in AP physics together, shared a love of action movies, and eventually a love of talking about the crushes they weren’t ready to tell anyone else about yet at the back of the classroom.

He’d missed her, and if he was honest, it was getting harder and harder to justify cutting ties with everyone just because he’d had his heart broken.

They talked through two rounds of coffee, catching up on what he’d missed, and laughing himself sick at Maria and Carol’s misadventures during basic training. After two cups of coffee, Tony excused himself to use the bathroom.

As he dried his hands, he realised he should check his phone in case the lawyer had sent anything through and headed to the living room where it was charging.

On the floor sat an irritated and slightly dejected looking kid and Tony stopped in the doorway. “Uhh, everything alright?”

Monica huffed. “My doll broke.” She squeezed the middle, but nothing happened. “She’s meant to talk.”

Tony froze for a minute. This wasn’t exactly what he needed right now. Really, the further he stayed away from toys the better, but he took in the sad hunch of her shoulders and sighed.

He sat down on the couch. “C’mere kid,” Tony said, gesturing for her to come closer.

When she got near, he held out his hand for the doll. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out his kit and placed it on the arm of the couch.

When he took out his scissors, Monica yelped. “Don’t hurt her!”

“Don’t worry, I got this. She’ll be better after, I promise.”

He waited till she nodded, and then carefully opened up the back of the doll careful not to damage the clothing. “She’s a pilot, huh?”

Monica grinned. “Like mom and Carol.”

He reached in and grabbed out the voice chip, making a pleased sound when he recognised the model.

“So, what does she normally say anyway?”

Monica sighed. “Mostly ‘I love you’ and ‘let’s have a tea party’. It’s lame, but I just pretend that a tea party is code for ‘mission briefing’.”

“Nice loophole. Don’t like tea parties, huh?” He took a screwdriver and detached the dead battery. He was pretty sure he had a spare somewhere. He made a triumphant noise as he found the right one tucked away.

“I like tea parties sometimes, but she’s busy! She can’t just stop to have tea when there’s an enemy fighter jet on its way!” She shook her head. “Tea parties are for when she has leave stateside,” she finished confidently.

Tony laughed. “Fair enough.” He slotted the new battery in and closed the cover, twisting the screw tight. He pushed the button, pleased when he heard the ‘I love you’ loud and clear.

“You fixed it!” Monica yelled excitedly.

“I did,” Tony agreed, a smile spreading across his face. “But I think I can do better. This chip is re-recordable. So, I could make it so you could record new sayings for– " he looked at Monica.

“Captain Marvel.”

“Captain Marvel,” Tony agreed, “so she could actually say ‘mission brief’. What do you say?”

Monica’s jaw dropped. “Yes! Yes, please, Tony.”

They spent the next 10 minutes recording five new messages for the doll, including ‘I feel the need, the need, for speed’, which was mostly for Tony’s benefit, before he placed the chip and box back inside. He grabbed a needle and thread from his kit and carefully sewed it up, hiding the stitches carefully.

When he handed Captain Marvel back to Monica, his chest swelled with pride when she hugged the toy excitedly and then gave him one as well. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I have to go show mom!”

She scampered off and Tony smiled to himself as he packed up the pieces of his kit. He suddenly felt eyes on him, and he looked up to see Carol leaning in the doorway. “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” she said, grinning and looking at his kit.

“Oh, for–" he pointed at her. “This doesn’t mean anything! I was just doing a favour for a kid; it does not mean I want to go back to toy making.”

“Oh, definitely,” Carol agreed. “I mean everyone just carries around a toy repair kit. Totally natural.”

“I– " he stopped, realising he didn’t really have an answer to that. It’d been a gift from his dad when he was ten, and he’d just always kept it on him, even when he wasn’t going anywhere that he’d need to use it. “Shut up.”

She smirked. “Sometimes something’s just in your blood Stark, doesn’t pay to fight it.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes things don’t turn out the way we want,” Tony said, looking away.

“True enough.” She took a seat next to him. “Doesn’t seem like enough of a reason to stop trying though.”

“Look, far be it from me to try and tell you what to do. It’s your decision, no one else’s. But, if I can put in my two cents, maybe you ought to get all the facts before you decide. Everyone knows Obadiah Stane’s been mouthing off about the finances; maybe he’s right, maybe he’s not. But don’t you think you owe it to yourself to check? That way you know that whatever move you make; you considered all the options.”

Tony slumped back against the couch. “You’re right. I should look at the files.”

She patted him on the shoulder. “Knew you’d make the right call. Now,” she stood

up and clapped her hands in her knees. “Want to help Captain Marvel fight the goat lord? Because I’m pretty sure that’s where this is going.”

Tony snorted but let her pull him up. He still had the kit in his hand, and he made to drop it back into his bag.

He hesitated, staring at it for a moment.

Then he dropped it into his pocket and followed the sound of child laughter and goat bleats.

* * *

Tony went over to the factory office that evening, not wanting to be disturbed while he looked over the documents.

The most recent ones had all been digitised, so he combed through spreadsheets and financial reports fairly easily, but he found some referenced older data that he needed to find on paper.

He made his way to the old storage room, groaning at the number of boxes stacked up on the shelves. Thank god Mrs. Arbogast was so organised, otherwise he’d never have found a goddamn thing.

It wasn’t until a few hours in that he started to notice a few discrepancies. Or rather, a pattern of discrepancies. Older paper files that looked different to the digital versions, reports from accounting that didn’t balance, and substantial outgoing payments that didn’t make sense.

There was one account number that kept being repeated, and Tony frowned, unable to find any sort of payment order that explained it. It was…a lot of money over time, and it was odd that no one seemed to have questioned it. Everything was always signed off, but it niggled at him and finally Tony gave in and picked up the phone.

It took a few calls, and a heated discussion with a few bank representatives, but eventually he managed to track the account source. The account was in the Cayman’s, but that was as far as he got before someone had clearly decided they’d need sign off from someone higher up before they gave out more information.

He stumbled across the legal box almost by accident, tucked away in the corner behind some old chairs and tables and just marked ‘Misc.’. Which wasn’t at all strange, he was sure.

He had assumed some patents and copyright documents – it’s not like Stark Toys didn’t have competition – but it was not at all what he was expecting.

Tony flicked through the files, eyes widening as he read.

They were court filings, hospital records, legal claim after legal claim, all quietly settled out of court, given hush money and forced to sign NDAs.

Science experiment kits that caused chemical burns, toys guns that fired far too hard and had caused blindness or a broken nose, inflatable baby boats that led to drowning, toy cars that still used lead paints.

But the toys kept being produced.

And every file, signed off by one Obadiah Stane.

Oh god, Tony thought, everything falling into place in his head like a jigsaw puzzle. Money being syphoned off, for years, into offshore accounts. Unbalanced books signed off by someone with authority.

This didn’t make sense. And yet it did. He knew it did, the logical part of his brain pushing past his emotions, overlaying ‘Uncle Obie’ with an ambitious man who wanted Tony to sell his legacy to cover his own ass and make off with a golden parachute.

The anger pooled in his gut as he poured over the details. He tracked all the inconsistencies, noting every decimal out of place, any ‘t’ that wasn’t crossed.

And, well, the thing about being an expert in cyber security was knowing where the weaknesses were. He hacked the database with ease, slipping past the firewall and into the email server. The thing with people who were onto a long con was they got sloppy. Arrogant. He flicked through the entries, finally finding what he was looking for. An exchange between Obadiah’s company account and a private hidden email address, the one linked to the same offshore account number. It was easy enough to break into after that, and he found all the evidence he needed.

When he was done, he sat back. He blinked rapidly as the first stream of light poured in through the windows. He felt hollow.

He’d been tricked and lied to. He’d almost given up his family business, taken jobs from half the town and for what? Because Obie had always told him his ideas were stupid? Because he loved being a goddamn computer programmer so much?

Not to mention all the families and children who had suffered because his father had never bothered to look past the surface and see what Obadiah had been doing.

Well, that stopped today.

He started the coffee going, took a shower and got cleaned and dressed in his best suit. The lawyers were coming to get everything signed off and finalised and he wanted to meet Obadiah first.

He wasn’t going to let him get away with this.

* * *

He only had a moment’s warning before the door to his office was pushed open. This was _his_ office. He was finally ready to accept that.

“Tony!” Obadiah greeted warmly; his tone surprised. “We aren’t meeting for an hour; I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Tony gave him a forced smile, trying to seem calm and aloof. “I wanted to talk to you. I figured this was the best time.” As he spoke, he pulled up the webcam function, hitting record before minimising it and tucking it out of sight.

“Of course, any time my boy.”

“I wanted to talk about Jones, actually,” he said, standing and walking over the window. He kept his eyes forward, looking out over the empty factory floor. “And Brown. Smith, Rodriguez, Kowalski, Goldberg, all of them really.”

“I don’t know what you– "

“Yes, you do. You know all those names. Because I know what you did. Or more what you didn’t do.” Tony turned to glare at him. “I know you didn’t recall or cease production on dangerous toys, as long as they were big sellers, and I know you made those families keep their silence because they couldn’t afford to pay for the medical bills for their children without the settlement. I know you’ve been siphoning off money from the company for years, pretending it’s been failing when our profits should be strong. I know you tried to take all this from me for your own greed, and you didn’t care who it hurt!” He stepped forward to place his hands on the desk and stare Stane down. “Have I left anything out, or is that the general gist, would you say?”

Obie looked back at him, his face pale with shock. He really had thought he’d get away with it, Tony thought. And that was what a man looked like when realised he was going to be going to prison for fraud.

Then his face relaxed, and a confident smirk took its place. “Oh, my boy. You always were too smart for your own good. Just like your father. Though he learned his lesson eventually.”

No. He couldn’t mean–

“Who did you tell about this?” Obadiah got up and started to walk slowly towards him. “No one, I bet. I bet you were so pleased with yourself for figuring it out and so angry at me that you just came over here with no back up.” Tony tried to keep his face blank, but Obie smirked. “Thought so. Such a shame. You were always bad at looking before you leap.” He sighed with mock sympathy. “And now, there’s no one to help you. It’s too bad you couldn’t just keep your mouth shut and take your cut of the sale. Would’ve made this a whole lot easier. But now I guess I'll have to go for plan B.”

“What’s plan B?” Tony asked, his heart pumping wildly in his chest. Because Obie’s face was like a mask, twisted in a chilling smirk. Nothing like the man who had wiped his tears when he was small and encouraged him to keep designing even when his father shut him down. His eyes were wild, like an animal who knows its trapped. And that was dangerous.

“Well, if I can’t have the sale, then I’ll just have to cover my tracks instead. How handy all the files are kept here. Such a shame, they were all destroyed in the fire.”

Tony didn’t ask ‘what fire?’ because he could already see where this was going. He started edging towards the door. As soon as he got near, Obadiah suddenly leapt for him, pinning him to the ground and pulling his hands behind his back.

Tony was younger, stronger, but Obie had taken him by surprise and the split second of hesitation had cost him.

He took Tony’s tie from around his neck and used it to bind his hands, managing to hold him in place despite Tony’s mad wiggling.

He used his own tie to bind his feet and when he moved off, Tony realised he was completely immobile.

“I’m sure everyone will agree this was a terrible tragedy. But, well, accidents happen.” He grabbed his bag and coat and headed for the door. “I really wish things could’ve been different. Goodbye, Tony.” Then he was gone.

* * *

Tony lay there for a moment, the shock of what had just happened taking its toll.

What the fuck was he going to do now?

He tried yelling for help, but realised it was no use. There would be no one in the factory, since it had always been Stark policy to let workers have Christmas Eve off after the busy pre-Christmas rush. He was screwed.

He tried to get free, rolling over to the desk to look for scissors. It was hard work. He moved like a caterpillar, forcing himself upright and leaning against the desk for support. He opened the desk drawer with his teeth and rummaging with his face until he found a box cutter. Even better!

As he went to pick it up, he caught a whiff of something. Something heavy and familiar.

Smoke.

Obie apparently didn’t fuck around. He needed to move faster. He gripped the box cutter in his mouth, dropping it onto the floor so he could turn and grab it in his hands. He had to be careful, lest he slice his own wrist open, but he managed to get the blade up, sliding it slowly beneath the tie and sawing it off.

As he got his hands free, the alarm sounded. It screamed loud and harsh in his ears, and he shouted, slapping his hands over them to try and block the noise. As the ringing subsided, he bent down and undid his ankles. The smell of smoke was getting stronger and as he stood, he saw a thick cloud of it billowing onto the factory floor.

He swung the door to the office open and coughed as the smoke hit his lungs. It was harder to see out here, the dark cloud rising to the ceiling. He made his way carefully down the stairs and down to the floor. He could feel the heat now and hear a loud crackling roar of the flames near the other end. It was spreading fast, and the factory had plenty of accelerants stored away– the whole thing could go up if help didn’t arrive quickly.

He made it to the exit, and felt a rush of relief as he reached for the door, tugged on the handle and–

Nothing. He pulled again.

He turned the handle, looking at the gap between the door. It wasn’t locked, the bolt wasn’t engaged. He wrenched at it, trying to get it free before he realised the obvious.

Obadiah needed him to go up with the factory. It wouldn’t do for him to escape.

“God damnit!” He swore. “Now what the fuck do I do?”

_Don’t panic, don’t panic_ , he chanted to himself. He swung around, pulling his shirt over his face. He just needed another plan.

There! An emergency exit up on the walkway. He ran over to the ladder and began to climb. He made it halfway up the rungs when he stopped.

All the evidence was still on the computer. If he left now, Obadiah would delete the lot, and all the paper financial records would go up in smoke. And the webcam footage. He’d need it if he wanted to prove Stane had just tried to murder him and had started the factory fire.

Dammit.

He slid back down and ran back towards the office. His feet pounded on the stairs, his arms holding tight to the railings so he wouldn’t fall.

He could barely see. He felt his way to the office door, shoving it open and closing it tight, shoving an old coat into the gap under the door to stop the room filling with smoke.

He typed in the password with trembling fingers, pushing a thumb drive into the slot and grabbing as many files as he could. He found the webcam footage, making sure to upload it to his Rhodey’s personal drive as well. If he didn’t make it out, at least Rhodey could make sure he saw justice.

There was a scream of sirens, and Tony moved to the window that faced the car park. There was a fire engine already unreeling its hoses, and another pulling up alongside it. He breathed a sigh of relief. The cavalry had arrived.

As the computer beeped at it finished its task, he pulled the drive free, tucking it into his pocket. Time to get out of here.

He grabbed the coat from the floor and covered himself with it, then reached for the door.

He yelped as the hot metal burned his skin and he used the arm of the coat to pull it open.

He stepped out onto the landing and into darkness. Christ, he couldn’t see a thing.

He tried to avoid the sides of the stairwell, but that didn’t stop him from brushing up against the metal, catching his bare wrist and biting his lip as it left a large, red mark.

He tried to head in the direction of the ladder, but as he held out his hands in front of him, they brushed against nothing. 

He couldn’t tell where he was, and the realisation that he was likely wandering aimlessly across the factory floor made his heart start to pound.

Then he remembered through his panic what he’d been taught as a kid, about smoke rising and getting low, and he dropped to the floor, crawling on his hands and knees. The air was slightly clearer, and he could see a little better down there. At least enough to turn himself back the way he came.

He was starting to get dizzy. He knew it was the lack of oxygen, but he didn’t have a lot of options. He kept crawling until he couldn’t anymore. His head was heavy, and it was getting hard to remember what he was doing and why it was important.

He flopped down, resting on his arms and stared across the concrete floor. There was something important he had to do; he was sure of it. And someone he wanted to see.

There was a noise from above, and Tony screamed as a small piece of the ceiling rafters fell onto his hip, burning through his jacket and scorching his skin. He shoved it off and curled up, willing the pain away.

His mind conjured up an image of floppy blond hair and gorgeous blue eyes. And a goddamned beautiful beard.

_Steve._

He wanted Steve.

There was a loud bang and Tony flinched but then there was a voice calling his name.

“Here!” he coughed. “’M over here.”

“Tony!” The pounding of feet, and then he was being turned onto his back. And there he was, like magic.

“Come on, Tony,” Steve said, looping an arm around his back and under his knees. He lifted Tony like he was nothing and Tony felt the hard biceps under his body.

“You’re strong,” he told him and patted a pec to prove it.

“Thanks,” Steve said, still looking worried but giving him a small smile, nonetheless.

Tony was in the air, and he was moving. He didn’t realise how far until the bright light of the outside hit his face and he blinked away the dots. When his vision cleared, he looked up, and all he could see was Steve.

All Tony wanted was to kiss him, but as he tried to move his head, he found he was too tired. Steve looked down at him and all Tony could think was how much he wanted him, and only him.

He nuzzled into Steve’s chest, listening to his heart beating, and nodded off between one beat and the next.

* * *

“I’m not going to pretend this wasn’t a little embarrassing,” Tony said, holding out the newspaper.

The headline ‘Mayor Rogers: Local Hero’, and underneath a half page photo.

A half page photo of Steve carrying Tony out in his arms, muscles bulging and smudged with ash and soot, crisp and clear again the hazy backdrop of fire and smoke. He was looking down at Tony with an expression that not even Tony could deny.

Tony looked...vaguely tragic and quite singed, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind.

Steve flushed. “Yeah, Bucky messaged me a picture of it this morning.”

“I think I’ll get it framed.”

Steve rubbed a hand over his face. “Oh god, don’t, it’s embarrassing enough. I’m not a hero, I just did what needed to be done.”

“How did you know I was there?”

“Sam and I were out for a run, and we saw the smoke and heard the sirens. Soon as we realised where the fire was, Sam said you’d been out all night and that you hadn’t come back, and I don’t know. I just knew you were in there.” He looked at Tony. “I’ve never been so scared in my life.’

Tony felt his cheeks heat at the attention. “Well, thank you. It was very brave.”

“More selfish, really. I could never let anything happen to you.”

And despite the warm feeling the words gave him, Tony gave him a look. “It seemed you were happy to let me go before. I don’t know what’s changed.”

Steve dropped his head and sighed. “That’s fair. I know I hurt you. But it wasn’t because I didn’t care about you. I just want you to know that.”

Tony threw his hands in the air in frustration and then immediately regretted it as the movement pulled at his burns. “Ow, ow, ow.”

Steve reached for him, but Tony flapped a hand at him. “Never mind that. If you didn’t stop caring, then why did you do it?”

“Ma got cancer.”

It took a moment for the words to penetrate but once they did the bottom dropped out of Tony’s stomach. “She’s– "

“No, no, she’s fine now. Remission, three years. But she got diagnosed, right before you got your acceptance letter.”

Tony was barely breathing now, because one of the benefits of being a genius was being able to jump ahead. He could already see the pieces falling into place. He knew Steve well enough to know where this was going.

“I was going to tell you. I was a mess and hurting, but then you got the letter and you were so excited, and I knew what would happen if I told you. I had to stay, there was never another option. But you, you could finally get out of here, away from your dad, and live the life you wanted. Ma would need me here, not to mention the medical debt I knew we’d be in. She agreed, you know. She didn’t want pity and she didn’t want you to miss out either. Hell, she tried to get me to leave too, but that was never going to happen.” Steve stared down at his hands. “If I’d told you, you would’ve stayed, and you would’ve been miserable. I loved you, and I couldn’t be the one to tie you here.”

“Sweetheart ...” Tony said, softly, and he didn’t even care that he’d let the endearment slip out. Because he’d been hurt, sure, but it was tough thinking about Steve carrying that pain by himself, all the while letting Tony hate him and go off to college. Steve who put everyone first even when it hurt him.

“I said I didn’t love you because I knew it would hurt you and you’d believe me. Because you’ve never seen yourself the way I do.” He gave Tony a soft sad smile and looped his pinkie around Tony’s where it lay on the bed. “I’m so sorry, Tony.”

Tony was in a flood of emotion. Happy that Sarah was ok, sad that he hadn’t been around to help Steve through it and furious with Steve for not telling him, for letting him feel this way for years.

It was a lot to process. He was tired, and hurt, and he probably wasn’t in the best place to make big emotional decisions. But that had never stopped him before. He just wanted to get out of here and go home. And he wanted to do it with Steve.

“Take me home, Steve.”

“What?”

“Take me home,” Tony repeated. “It’s Christmas Eve and I want to go home and spend it with you.”

Steve’s face shone with hope. “Do you really mean–?”

“I’m not over it, and we’ll need to talk so much more about it when I’m not feeling like shit, but...I want to be with you. More than anything.”

“Ok,” Steve said softly, his eyes a little shiny, and a bright smile spread across his face. “You got it.” He leaned down and kissed Tony on the forehead, lingering for a moment before he drew away. “I’ll talk to the nurse, see about getting you discharged.” He walked to the door and stopped leaning against for a moment and turning back. “Don’t go anywhere, ok?”

“You got it.”

When he was alone, he looked down at the newspaper again. He picked up his phone and snapped a picture. Yeah that was definitely his new wallpaper.

* * *

True to his word, Steve took him home.

Tony was tucked onto the couch with a fluffy pillow and a blanket, with a cup of cocoa and a large fluffy companion curled on the floor by his feet. He scratched Dodger’s ear, laughing at the happy whuff he got in return.

This is what he had wanted, what he had missed while he’d been way in the city, living on his own and feeling so lonely.

It just needed one more thing.

“Steve,” he called, and a moment later Steve’s head poked around the doorway into the kitchen looking concerned.

“You need something?” He looked over his shoulder. “I’m just putting some soup on for you if you’re hungry.”

Tony shook his head. “I’m fine, just a little tired.” He patted the couch beside him. “Could you join me? Please?”

Steve looked a little surprised, but ambled over, sitting down and giving Dodger a stroke when the dog perked up. “Are you ok?”

Tony nodded, but moved carefully until he was leaning against Steve’s chest. He wrapped his arms around his waist, and waited, tense, for Steve to respond. He needed Steve to react in kind, more than anything. He needed to know that he was welcome here and that this wasn’t just because he was hurt.

Two strong arms came around him, pulling him tight, mindful of his burns.

“I want to stay here.” He said quietly, feeling Steve tense beneath him. “I think, I want to take over the factory.”

“Really?” And he could hear Steve trying to keep his voice level, not sound too excited.

“The police caught Obadiah at the airport before he could escape and the company lawyer, Pepper, says the evidence I have should be enough to hold him. Thank god they put the fire out before it reached the offices.” He heaved a sigh of relief. “So, the factory’s mine, free of any greedy influences.”

“Kids need toys. And a lot of damage has been done to kids who should’ve been safe. I need to make up for that.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Steve argued, and Tony nodded.

“I didn’t know then, but I know now, so it’s my responsibility. I want to rebuild, and I want to make a difference.”

“If anyone could do it, it’d be you.”

Tony felt a strong burst of warmth at the confidence in Steve’s voice. He’d missed this. Missed having someone to support you and knowing you could lean on them when you needed it. God, he’d missed Steve so much.

“It’s going to be a lot of work,” he continued. “I’ll have to move back.” He cleared his throat. “You know anywhere that might have room for a tenant?”

There was a surprised huff. “Well, I know there’s one bed and breakfast that would take you in.” Fingers tucked up his chin to lift his head till he was looking Steve in the eye. “But you know, might be cheaper if you stayed here.”

“Yeah?” Tony breathed, feeling suddenly vulnerable. It was fine joking and flirting, but the idea of really putting himself out there to ask was…hard.

Steve smiled. “Yeah. I made this place for me, but deep down it was always for you. I didn’t ever really expect you to, given it was my fault you left, but hope’s a hard thing to kill.”

“I missed you,” Tony confessed, feeling his eyes prick.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, leaning in to nuzzle his jaw, the soft scratch of his beard making Tony shiver. “I’m sorry I hurt you, but I am so glad you came home.” He leaned in closer. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Steve kissed him, and Tony felt something in his chest click into place, a feeling of warmth and contentment that he’d been missing the last few years. He leaned into it, giving back as good as he got, his hands fisting in Steve’s shirt and holding him close. Strong arms wrapped around him and he sighed into Steve’s mouth, the feeling of being loved and cared for swelling up inside him. When Steve finally broke away, he was smiling, and he reached up to brush his hand through Tony’s hair.

“Before we go any further, I have a bit of a confession to make.”

“Oh?” Tony asked, trying not to let the wariness show on his face.

“Honesty is important, and I want us to start as we mean to go on, so,” Steve gave him a serious look. “I asked all the B&Bs to turn you down so you’d have to stay at Ma’s.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. “You asshole! I knew it was weird they had so many guests!” But he couldn’t keen the grin off his face. He’d always loved Steve’s more devilish side and it always gave him a thrill when Steve let it show.

Steve smiled, clearly sensing he wasn’t in too big a trouble for it. “I know. I’m sorry. I was trying to buy time to win you back, and I knew Ma wouldn’t let you leave without a fight. She loves you too you know.”

“I know.”

“Hey Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“You aren’t really going to get that picture framed, are you?”

Tony grinned.

**THE END.**

**Author's Note:**

> Really hope you enjoyed! Happy holidays everyone! :)
> 
> Come say hi! Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/BladeoftheNebu1)/[Tumblr](https://bladeofthenebula27.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Join the [Put on the Suit (18+) server](https://discord.gg/z5WSqbS) over on discord to hang out with fellow stony fans! It’s a super welcoming community and we have a lot of fun ♥️


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